A Thousand Days
by SeekForMySoul
Summary: Oneshot- Twelve year old Sakura was captured by a common enough man, except for the fact that he had an unhealthy obsession over young girls and boys, and experiments.


Prompt: A Thousand

Rating: T-M

Disturbing Themes

He submerged her under the blue liquid for a period of time. Grasping her by the skull, nails driving through her greasy hair and leaving perfect half moon indentions in her skin; he waited.

And waited.

Until he could not hear nor see the struggling girl flailing her arms and thrashing violently in the liquid. Until her body became limp and submissive, folding in on itself; a doll with its strings cut.

Then he realeased her. She surged up gasping for breath, body trembling violently. She spat and coughed out the inhaled liquid. Cringing with pain, she then laid back in tense manner, prostrating herself out for his inspection.

And then it happened all over again.

The first few times she had thrown up uncontrollably, spewing against his perfectly clean shoes. Now she just steeled herself for the inevitable. And if the unfortunate happened and he let go too late, who was to care? Certainly not him, he just cared about the data samples.

And certainly not her, she prayed for the unfortunate to happen.

* * *

She counted the tallys on the wall that marked the days passed in her tiny cell. Ninety-eight tallys, ninety eight days in this hell hole and she was still holding on.

Maybe.

She thought herself stronger than this cheap torture, these mercenaries with no real training. But turns out mercenaries are more imaginative than she thought. Doctors are more imaginative than she thought. If she survived this she would never trust another stranger again.

Psychopaths are everywhere.

* * *

Electricity coursed through her veins, running through her blood until she shook and convulsed like a mad woman. Then he dialed the machine down and waited for her to calm her self. Her scores were the most impressive out of all the prisoners; her ability to withstand torture a gift from a higher power. But shinobi were trained in this art if he understood correctly.

No matter, he would break her like all his toys.

It was only a matter of time.

* * *

She didn't know how long she was here, now. After three hundred the days started to blur together. To keep a measure of sanity she'd taken to repeating her boy's names.

"Naruto, Sai, Kakashi, Sasuke. Naruto, Sai, Kakashi, Sasuke. Naruto, Sai, Kaka-"

Footsteps sounded above her head, an uneven gait that told of a lame leg and heavy boots. Fear gripped her heart before she relaxed and thought of her boys again. They'd be disappointed, her fearing the enemy. She took a deep breath and started again.

"Naruto, Sai, Kakashi, Sasuke."

* * *

He was impressed by the tiny girl. Almost two year of torture, of nails and knives and starvation, and still she'd look at him with fight left in her. Glaring green eyes that would chill a man to his bones.

Most impressive indeed.

* * *

Her boys were waiting for her. She knew it from the bottom of her heart, from the depths of her bones. She had to escape, had to-

Oh wasn't that stone pretty? That pretty, pretty stone, maybe she should come closer, closer, closer-

No!

She slapped her face with both hands trying to clear her mind. After she realized they were drugging her she tried to start refusing food, but it was clear that they would come in here and force feed her if necessary. After all _his_ most important test subject couldn't be damaged outside of his experiments. And day by day her thoughts started to scatter into the wind.

She was scared.

* * *

Tomorrow would be the thousandth day of her stay. She was his favorite toy, the one that almost didn't break. But she finally did break and he knew what to do with broken toys.

He would be sad to see her go.

* * *

He submerged her again, forcing her head beneath the artificial blue liquid. Again, again, again.

"You should be honored, you know! You were part of my research, my most important research... You should be prostrated at my feet, should thank me."

Laughing he wiped the spittle from his lips and dragged her head up so he could meet her drugged gaze.

"Today is you one thousanth day here." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Today I'll be giving you a surprise gift. A gift of _freedom._"

He laughed again when he saw the hope start to flicker in her eyes.

"Yes, I'll be giving you a gift of freedom."

Slowly he brought the knife that was laid on the table up to her cheek, and stroked her with it.

"Ahh, I'll miss you when you leave."

The hope swiftly died within her. Dread built up as she stared at the wickedly curved knife, and she knew she would never see her boys again. Never hear them laughing, never tell them of her infinite love that she offered them. Even when she prayed for a swift death, she never _really _wanted to die. Defeated, she looked up at the man who held her captive for a thousand days.

A shout was heard above them and then crashing and screaming. Startled the man limped away and looked up in puzzlement.

"What in the wo-"

He was cut off by a pounding on the doors. Seeing her chance, she dragged herself to her feet and rushed him, catching a look of surprise on his face. Even without her chakra and her long imprisonment she was still fast. Swiftly grabbing the knife, she slit his throat with it. She stabbed and slashed until she had no strength left and then dropped the bloody knife, swaying on her feet. The door to the lab finally caved open from the combined force of the four men behind it. And she saw the men who she would die for and who'd die for her. Hands caught her before she fell completely and she finally relaxed into her comrades, her friends.

They didn't hear the vindictive pleasure in her voice before she passed out.

"Took you guys long enough."

* * *

Twelve year old Sakura was captured by a common enough man, except for the fact that he had an unhealthy obsession over young girls and boys, and experiments.

Thirteen year old Sakura prayed for her boys to save her; every day waking with that prayer forming on her lips.

Fourteen year old Sakura never begged, but despair had taken root in her heart.

Fifteen year old Sakura never broke under torture; she finally wised up, and saved herself.


End file.
